


Bad Dreams

by Akuuni (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Begging, Grinding, M/M, Mind Control, Non-Consensual, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rape, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:57:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Akuuni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a really late present for Joe/guro-boy/666bot. I might take requests if you hit me up at gildedgossamer.tumblr.com! </p><p>Rufioh Nitram has been having bad dreams lately. Who knows what could be causing them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a second chapter to this!

Your heart sings every time his eyes gloss over with those most miraculous colors. This is the third time you’ve snuck into Rufioh’s hive while he slept and defiled him, and thanks to your chucklevoodoos, he doesn’t have a clue. You always clean up afterwards and put him back to sleep, and when he comes to, the little he remembers is written off as a bad dream. This arrangement works well enough to sate your needs and desires until you have the power and position needed to properly claim him as your own. Until then, you are content to play the role of puppet master.

  
And you are quite talented with his strings. Your every whim directs him, his movements. Your mind gives him his orders, and he obeys without hesitation, stripping for you with a desperate expression on his face, telling of a need for you. You love the control, and what you love just as much his the way he moves as he discards his clothing. Unbuttoning and shrugging off his pajama shirt, flashing you a view of his spectacular ass as he removes his pants and boxers. He strides over to you without missing a beat, and kneels onto the couch with his legs on either side of yours. He grinds against your cock in earnest, his length nothing in comparison to the monstrous size of yours.

  
You make sure he drops plenty of gasps and moans. You like seeing him act like the little bitch every brownblood should be. You like seeing him in his place, where he belongs. It all just feels… right. You remove your gloves so you may better enjoy feeling of his smooth, warm ass. You clamp your hands around his plush, fleshy rear as he moves to meet his lips to yours. You flash a toothy smile before forcing your tongue past his own lips. You keep one hand on his rump while another rises up to keep his head tilted towards yours. You smudge your wicked paint more than once while you violate his mouth.

  
His hands trail up your torso as he moves his head to the rhythm of your tongue, letting out little needy noises all the while. He’s grinding again, and you find his impatience endearing. You decide to have mercy on the poor soul, pulling your tongue out in favor of dragging it along his jaw and pulse, all while directing his hands downwards, to pull at your briefs. The urge to suck at his neck is great, but you can’t leave any evidence you were here. Marks of ownership will have to wait. You shift your legs to help him take off your pants, letting your long cock out. You think you’ve waited long enough.

  
As you get up, you push him off you and onto the floor, on all fours. His big ass tilted up to you and chin planted on the ground. After getting rid of your shirt, you follow suit, kneeling behind him and leaning down, face almost right against his rear end. You grab one of his ass cheeks harshly, and spreading it so you can get a lovely view of his back door. You take a moment to admire it before following your intent. You sloppily move your tongue up and down his asshole, poking and prodding, moving back and forth. He’s shaking and letting out the smallest gasps, and it’s almost adorable. He bobs and sways towards and away from your mouth, deliciously lost in the pleasure.

  
You have him call out your name in a breathy, whiny voice. The need is think and the desire blatant. You have him tell you how much he needs you, how he can’t wait for you to take him, make him yours forever, so he can serve you as lowbloods are meant to serve their betters. How the only thing that matters to him is your pleasure. You can hardly take it anymore, if you tease him any longer you’ll cum before the real fun begins. You pull away to breath in, before grabbing the lube you had set aside. You can’t have him feeling /too/ sore in the morning, otherwise he might suspect.

  
After giving your cock a nice coating, and some on his entrance just to be safe, you ready your member just outside the door, before leaning down to his ear, letting out a little chuckle that makes him shudder. It only makes you laugh more. The little whines he makes as you tell him how hard you intend to fuck get you harder than you thought you could be, and you decide to not waste another second, You start shoving in steadily and slowly, reveling in the heat, letting out a loud moan to match the one coming from under you. You huff heavily as you adjust to the heavy heat of his tight hole. You want to ravish it so badly, to leave your mark on it so everyone knows he’s been used, but you have to wait. What an injustice.

  
You grab his shoulders in a tight grip as you start thrusting in and out with a rough, fast pace. Caution be damned, he’s yours and he should fucking know it. His desperate little gasps only fuel you, filling you with power and lust. His panting lets you know how he could love it as much as you do if he just acted like a proper shitblood and gave you what you wanted. It’s funny, the little truths that come out when you free someone of their own mind. How liberated they are when you leave their bodies’ decisions up to instinct. How miraculous they can be when their body tells them what’s motherfucking what.

  
You halt just to take in the warmth again, your crotch pressed as far as you can go into the plush of his ass, and your dick as far as you can reach inside him. You grind into him as thoroughly as possible, reaching every spot you can, feeling him in his entirety, before you start fucking him again, nice and proper. You unfaltering take him for all he’s worth,the only thing that matters from one of his caste: your pleasure. Your’s alone. He’s yours. No one else’s.

  
You slam into him again and again, unrelenting, unforgiving. He’s so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors woke. A manic grin, all teeth, spread across your face as pound into him. You don’t want him to sit right when you’re done. He needs to know he belongs to you. He’s pleading from under you, asking for permission to cum. Not just motherfucking yet, you tell him. He needs to beg more if he wants the relief. And he follows order very well, practically frantic as he shouts out pleas for satisfaction.

  
You let him, tell him to call your name as he does, to to tell you all about how you own him. He does not disappoint. He professes how he can’t live without you, that he’s nothing without you, your ownership. How he wants you to collar him and lock him away, so only your worthy eyes can see him. That he wants you to brand your name across his ass, he’ll always know who he should be with. And he’s cumming all the while.

  
All that lovely talk has you ready to finish too. You go at it as fast and hard as ever, keeping him tilted up seeing as he’s a collapsed, delirious mess on the floor. You laugh at the sight, before spanking him in an attempt to bring him back to his senses. You do it twice, and then again, listening to his miraculous squeals, slapping his ass one last time before you cum. Your dick planted deep in him as you release your load of material into him.

  
You lay there, exhausted, as you struggle to take control of your own breathing. You sit still for a few long moments until you get the strength to get up and lead him to the bathroom. The shower goes on and you grab some paper towels to clean up his mess. You linger a moment longer to watch his form as you order him to wash off. You know you’ve miscalculated when he slips. Your hold falters, and he looks at you. With normal, heretical, yellow eyes.

  
"…Kurloz?"


End file.
